Ride the High
by Andral
Summary: When House says he’ll ‘Ride the high’, maybe he has experience with these kinds of things. Huddy!


Title: Ride the High

Author: Mithol

Rating: M for Drug Use/References and Course Language

Summary: When House says he'll 'Ride the high', maybe he has experience with these kinds of things. Huddy!

Pairing: House/Cuddy

Disclaimer: All of the characters and settings belong to House, M.D. and not me. House isn't mine (although I wish he was) and I claim nothing. I wrote this story for the pleasure of myself and other House fans.

A/N: Just so you know, I have never taken drugs before. I don't know what it's like to be high and never will. This story is just an experiment and I do not recommend that anybody else take drugs. Drugs are bad, so why would anybody be surprised that House might have some weed every now and then?

xXx

House felt like crap. He kneaded his forehead and popped a Vicodin but the pain still throbbed in his leg and a bout of chronic depression had come over him. He sat in his armchair with a cigar to calm him down. It helped, but only a bit, and the glass of scotch in his other hand was making him feel drowsy. Popping another Vicodin, he found himself incredibly dizzy but content with the drugs running through his system. He felt heavy though and weighed down so he stood up and limped over to a drawer to find what would top it all off. Wrapped in paper were several home-rolled marijuana cigarettes. House knew he was a doctor and he knew he had responsibilities and he knew that smoking marijuana was illegal, but he had used a prescription from Wilson to get hold of these.

House picked out two of the cigarettes and sat back down in his chair. He lit one and sucked in deeply. The grass went immediately to his head and slowed his thoughts down. He felt sounds swirl around in his ears and so it was confusing when he heard an echoing knock on his door. He shook his head to clear it just enough so that he could get up and go to the door. When he opened it he was just sober enough to recognise his boss standing there in tears.

Lisa Cuddy wiped her eyes and sniffed.

"What are you doing here?" House asked bluntly. He rubbed his eyes drowsily. Cuddy sobbed and her face became even wetter for House noticed that it was raining.

"I'm sorry, House," Cuddy said tearfully. "But I'm in a state of severe depression and I wanted company."

"We're all depressed these days," said House. Cuddy nodded.

"I just heard… I just heard that my dad's died." House felt his heart go out to her against his will. He put on a solemn, indifferent face.

"I'm sorry," he said. Cuddy burst out crying loudly. Her makeup ran and her nose ran and she fought hard to control herself. "Sorry," Cuddy said again. "I shouldn't have come. I should have gone somewhere else. I'm ruining your evening." She stuttered over her waves of devastation and turned to go. House felt guilty. He rolled his eyes in an annoyed way.

"Cuddy," he said. She stopped, the rain still tumbling down her hair. "Come inside. You must be freezing." Cuddy turned around and smiled gratefully at him through her tears. She walked through the doorway as he stepped aside and took off her coat and shoes.

"Thank you, House," she said, wiping her eyes and wringing out her hair. "I am sorry."

"Don't be," said House. "I'm sorry your dad died," he said bluntly. His senses were very slow after his drags of pot. "Come. Sit down." He limped over to his couch and Cuddy sat down on the other one. She noticed the half empty glasses of scotch and open bottle of Vicodin next to his smoking ashtray.

"You've been doping up, I see," she noted. "Is that…? Is that marijuana?" She asked, squinting at the cigarette in the tray. "Are you getting high?" she demanded, disbelievingly. "Is that what I interrupted?" House grinned.

"Dude," he said. "Totally." He sniggered. Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"I can't believe it. Maybe I shouldn't have come here."

"Hey," House protested. "I let you in the door." He leaned back in his seat and picked the roll up. "Want one?" He watched as a tear slid down her face while she decided.

"I really shouldn't," she speculated.

"Pfff," House shrugged. "You're down. Who's gonna know? Who's gonna care?"

"Ah, the board, for one," she pointed out. "But, they might not find out." She looked tempted. "What the hell?" She held out her hand.

"That's more like it," House grinned and handed her one, lighting a match and holding it out to her. She put it to her lips and inhaled deeply. House did the same. "We're gonna get smashed," he said happily. Cuddy breathed in again, exhaling with sobs.

"My dad would be ashamed of me."

"How old was he? When he died, I mean."

"Late sixties," Cuddy responded. "It was a big shock. Heart attack is what I got from my sister. Mum's devastated. She hasn't been able to talk to anyone. I've booked a flight for tomorrow evening so that I can fly down and see them all." House was barely listening.

"So, your dad would have been in his twenties. He probably didn't even remember."

"What?"

"The sixties," said House. Cuddy looked outraged at him.

"My father was not a stoner," she retorted.

"Everyone was a stoner back then," replied House. "They all lived in a Yellow Submarine and were friends with Lucy in the Sky."

"Shut up," said Cuddy. She took another drag, ignoring her own bitterness at what she was doing. The smoke started to swirl and make patterns in front of her eyes. There was silence for a while except for the sound of breathing.

"I see elephants. What about you?" House was staring into the cloud above him. He coughed.

"Huh?" Cuddy replied lazily. "Dunno. Wait. There's a pixie." She pointed at House. "Oh wait. That's just you with smoke behind you. And yet, I can just see you now with wings."

"Ha ha," House shot back at her. "The day I look like a pixie is the day Chase flies with the pigs. And Lucy."

"You look very sexy with smoke around you," Cuddy told him. "Did you know that?"

"Of course I did. Don't insult me." House blew the smoke away from his face and it swirled around his head, reflecting in his crystal blue eyes. He smiled seductively. Cuddy stood up sluggishly and walked across the room to sit on his lap. She balanced on his good leg and dumped her weed in his ashtray, putting her hands on the sides of his face and pulling him to her face, kissing him roughly. House had dropped his in the ashtray too when she pulled away again. He looked dazed and pleased.

"You look high," she noted.

"Well, so do you." He put his arms around her and squeezed her tightly, covering her mouth with his and kissing her as well. He shifted so that he was on top of her and stretched out on the couch, touching her. She ran her fingers through his hair, over his back, under his shirt and their tongues met, intertwined. "You smell high," he breathed, his voice deep and sensual from the smoke. She rolled over until she was on top.

"You taste high," she countered. "I think we're about to fuck each other."

"I agree. Getting stoned and screwing my hot, female boss. I should get double points for that. Especially since I got you stoned too."

"Why am I here again?" Cuddy asked, confused.

"Your dad died," said House. Cuddy's eyes welled up with tears and House watched as one broke the surface and ran down her face to the corner of her mouth. She tried to force them back and gritted her teeth.

"Fuck me good," she said. House nodded and unbuttoned her blouse while she kissed him mercilessly.

End (Unless my reviews request otherwise)

Now that you've R'd, please R as well.


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